Faded
by Atthla
Summary: [JamesSirius] When attraction and hormones clash at the age of sixteen


**Faded **

**Author: Atthla**

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns all.

**Warning:** Male/male pairings, weird characterizations, a high probability of grammatical mistakes and not to forget, _language_.

**Summary:** When attraction and hormones clash at the age of sixteen

Note: Ah yes, finally. My ultimate pairing in Harry Potter fandom, although this fic isn't exactly a James/Sirius. This is written for a request in ficondemand, but I guess it won't hurt to also post it here. Enjoy, all James/Sirius fans.

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If sin could be personified, it must damn look like this.

James Potter gritted his teeth, suppressing yet another surge of frustration as his eyes surreptitiously kept following the slow, languid movement of one long slender leg being crossed above its equally head-turning counterpart. No one should be allowed to affect someone else that much with a mere action of crossing one's legs. In fact, no one should be allowed to do _anything_ which could affect someone else this much at all.

Except that Sirius Black was _reading _a book.

He was _READING_ a book for Merlin's sakes!

"James?" A flick of long fingers in thick, raven hair and a slight tilting of a regal, oval-shaped face. James supposed he could pretend that he had just looked up from his own book and accordingly armed himself with a properly curious look. If Sirius noticed the whole deliberateness in his act, he certainly covered it pretty damn well.

"Hear this: _On the seventeenth day, precisely thirty-three hours after the brew has turned into the colour of silver, add a drop of human blood and stir sixty-six times anticlockwise. By now, the Veritaserum should have gained a transparent quality. Leave it for another eleven hours for proper congealment." _A pair of dark eyes looked up from old pages of the thick, leather-covered book to his carefully interested look. "That day we didn't add any blood and Remus still admitted that he had slept with Fabian Prewett."

"It wasn't compulsory then," James shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "Where the hell did you get that book from anyway? Looks like something Snivellus would own."

Sirius's eyes twinkled. "As a matter of fact, he lent it to me."

There was a long silence while James, torn somewhere between disbelief and pure astonishment, stared hard at his best friend. Sirius maintained a calm smile on his lips, which nearly bereft James's mind of the current track of their conversation and entertained him with much more interesting thoughts regarding said best friend's lips. It was the sound of page turning which returned him to his senses, and Sirius's voice saying, "He left it on my desk this evening after Transfiguration when I was talking to McGonagall."

James felt his eyebrows twitch. "Do I sense a murderous intent here?"

A scrape of parchment fell from the book and Sirius stopped from turning the pages, grinning to his friend. "You may be right, mate."

"Ten galleons that it will hex you as soon as you touch it."

There was a flash in Sirius's eyes that reminded James why exactly Sirius was a member of the Marauders though he could not exactly name what the flash was. "You mean it, my friend?" the black-haired boy drawled and a small voice told James that he did _not_ want to stand at the other side of the line, opposing his best friend when he was looking like that.

James remained silent – though not without a very childish pout – when Sirius picked up the piece of parchment and displayed victoriously that his state of health did not drop a bit compared to a second ago. Grinning widely, he waved the parchment in front of James's face. "You've just lost ten precious galleons, Jamey. Snivellus's method isn't this obvious."

"Ten galleons that it isn't a love letter," James declared again, still stubborn not to lose his ten galleons.

Sirius's grin was now impossibly wide. "As much as I love getting easy money, I do think someone has to put a stop to your brave but stupid conjectures, Prongs."

Five seconds were needed for the sentence to fully sink in into James's head. "It is? What the hell–?" he snatched the problematic piece from between Sirius's fingers and began to read it. At the end of the short letter, he raised his eyebrows at his friend who was waiting patiently with fingers forming a pyramid in front of his mouth. "I won't call this a love letter. This sounds more like a death threat. Who is this L.M. anyway?"

"Lucius Malfoy."

That dropped a bomb onto James's head. "_That_ Lucius Malfoy?"

"Yes, my cousin's fiancé," Sirius's nodded with the nonchalance of McGonagall transforming a bird into a goblet. James was under a heavy impression that more seriousness was needed in handling this matter, which he obviously didn't get from his friend right now. They were talking about the Lucius Malfoy!

"Are you out of your mind, Sirius?" he demanded, his voice rising. Fortunately they were alone in the common room since it was nearly eleven at night. "No, I'll rephrase that. Who are you the stranger who is impersonating my best friend? Sirius Black never wants to have anything to do with the Malfoys, least of all that bigheaded jackass Lucius."

In certain extents, it might also be an excellent explanation since James did not recall being attracted to his best friend before their sixth year. Sirius was not this..._captivating_ might be the word, although he had to admit that Sirius had always been charming.

As a friend of course.

"You're overreacting, mate," Sirius pointed out as he edged near to the fire which was crackling merrily in the hearth. "I met Malfoy during the vacation and, let's just say that we did things I'm sure you don't want to know."

James stared at his best friend, trying to gauge the gravity of those words to Sirius himself, and finally said, "So you're dating him."

The black-haired boy snorted. "Of course not. I don't want to get involved with the Malfoys."

"But you said you slept with him."

"Yeah, but why does it matter?" his best friend replied, impatience brightening his eyes with small flickers. "I was bored and so was he and both of us had no objection to one night stand and there we go."

"He _is_ writing a letter to you, Sirius," James tried to point out kindly and logically, all the way ignoring the angry talons of jealousy scratching his insides.

"So? I'm sure as hell won't respond to it," Sirius shrugged and reached out a hand to ruffle James's already messy hair. "Relax, mate. I'll make sure you like the one I'm sleeping with."

James felt his eyes narrowing and words tumbling out of his mouth in the shape of a question before he could hold a grip on himself. "Does that mean you are sleeping with someone right now?"

Sirius was eyeing him suspiciously now. "No, but why are young being paranoid about it? As long as I remember, you're the one trying to get Lily Evans to your bed."

It felt like cold water being poured all of a sudden to his fiery head. He had forgotten entirely that he was, in fact, chasing Lily Evans. Yes, _was_, James reminded himself, what with his unhealthy infatuation with Sirius these days. Now that he thought about it, chasing Lily seemed to be a hell lot easier than dealing with the fact that his best friend looked a bit more too attractive than best friends should. Or perhaps something was really messing around with his head.

"Are you still there, Prongs?" Sirius asked him, a pair of thick, elegant eyebrows raised. "Or your mind is currently and blissfully invading Evans's bed right now?"

James groaned at that subtle accusation. "I'm nowhere near successful."

"Don't whine, James," his best friend reproached, long fingers starting to skim the pages of the thick, ancient book again. "To be honest, I don't see you even trying these last few weeks and by the way Peter said Frank Longbottom is making a move on her already. You don't want to lose our Miss Prefect, don't you?"

"I'm trying," he mumbled, his eyes still set on Sirius's skeptical gaze, painfully aware that his friend had the absolutely wrong idea about what he was trying. The longhaired boy only shrugged and returned to his book, searching for a subject that might capture his interest.

And again, James was captivated.

Sirius always said that he hated his family, that he defied their every way of thinking and their sheer arrogance. But James wondered, while he was sitting there looking at the young heir of the Black and appreciating many little things about his best friend – the way he tilted his head, the way the tip of a finger waltzing leisurely at the rim of the book, the way utter distaste was being expressed with slight pulling of certain facial muscles without ruining the aristocratic lines – if Sirius was aware that they were betraying his lineage. He might hate his family, but the upbringing of one of the oldest wizarding families, the quality of the nobilities that had molded with his flesh and bones, could not be easily concealed.

James sighed, still unable to tear his gaze away.

"Yes, I'm trying."

* * *

"It was sold out."

Sirius arched an eyebrow. "Impossible. Are you trying at all, Prongs? Do I have to use my charms in order to get us a few Fizzing Whizzbees? You're pathetic, really."

Now sporting a very offended look on his face, James crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Why are you currently under the impression that your charm exceeds mine, Padfoot?"

"Because in fact, mine does," Sirius ran a hand through his hair with a grin. It was a sort of bet he had made with James, that the other boy wouldn't be able to buy them a bucket of Fizzing Whizzbees at half their price – an amount they needed in order to try a new prank. He sighed dramatically and spoke again, "I'll give you a second chance before I take this matter into my hand, mate. And perhaps you should ask for Moony's help because you obviously can't do it alone."

"You'll be the first to test it because I'm so gonna win this," James stated with a determined air before running back to try his luck.

Sirius only smirked.

Now, to _the_ matter he had to attend.

A soft curse fell from his mouth as Sirius reached back to rub the sore spot on the back of his neck again. It was the third time the small prickly sensation bothered him with the persistency of snow falling during winter and slipping into his shirt. Sirius gritted his teeth but not because of winter hovering in the air. He knew very well what and who caused this.

A little walk to the direction of Shrieking Shack brought him to a small, deserted clearing, draped in pristine white snow. One man, his white-blond hair falling like curtains of silk past his broad shoulders, stood in the middle of the clearing silently and haughtily, dressed in a set of black attires which only sullied the sanctity of his white surrounding – or so it seemed in Sirius's eyes. His lips thinned at this sight, not because it was unexpected but rather because of the utter unpleasantness of the matter. This man was one he preferred not to meet under any circumstance save for those of most urgent inevitability.

The other man's lips curved slightly at his arrival but Sirius spoke up first. "There are less crude ways to inform me of your presence, Malfoy."

"Certainly," the lips turned into a Malfoy dry smirk. "Ways that may go unnoticed by such uncivilized head as yours, Black."

Sirius looked at the other man coolly, not bothering to be bothered by the typical insult. "What do you want?" he asked in a tone so impeccably nonchalant that he had to refrain himself from grinning widely for his accomplishment.

"I recall that I have informed you about this meeting," Lucius said formally.

"Yeah, let's just say I ignore that letter," Sirius replied with a lazy grin, his earlier nonchalance developing into full-blown insolence. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Ministry business. I met Dumbledore earlier this afternoon."

Sirius tilted his head to one side, torn between the urge to laugh out loud and to imitate one of those Malfoy smirks he had learned from the other man. "How convenient that it falls on the same day with our Hogsmeade visit."

"I prefer to kill two birds with one stone." Yes, that smirk.

"And? Do I get to know why I'm being called out here?" Sirius crossed both of his arms in front of his chest and arched one curve of thick eyebrow. "Surely you don't plan to fuck me here, do you, Malfoy?"

Lucius clicked his tongue – and to Sirius's endless wonder, he managed to do so without ruining the image of an aristocratic bastard that he was. "Such crudeness. You are exceedingly unbefitting for a son of the well-regarded Black family."

If there was anything Sirius loathed to the point of extreme and certainly didn't want to hear on a fine day such as Hogsmeade visit, it was the mentioning of his family, least of all from the mouth of a Malfoy. The flame of anger which he had tried to subdue since his arrival there broke out of its containment in full force. He could already hear its ugly shadow in his voice when he spoke, "Can we just skip the preamble? What do you want, Lucius?"

When the blond man didn't say a word, Sirius thought that he should have expected such reaction. After all, no one could beat a Malfoy in making everything tremendously difficult.

"I'll answer that for you if you've suddenly lost your voice," he said again, his voice low and dangerous, outlined by anger and dark malice he often heard coming from his mother's mouth. But Sirius's mind was too full of other things to care, among them his burning desire to just lash out at the other man, and he did just that.

"My cousin is very beautiful and undoubtedly a wonderful choice to be the wife of Lucius Malfoy. But lo and behold! There is a little problem. You don't love her. You aren't even attracted to her! Instead, you find a young man quite enchanting, who to your utmost aversion was the black sheep of the Black family no less! You've slept with him once but you cannot forget him. You want to feel him again and again despite the approaching of your wedding and finally succumbing to your desire, you walked your feet to the ground of Hogwarts and–"

"_Crucio."_

At first, Sirius had no idea what hit him. He stared, more surprised than horrified, the rest of his words dying on his lips as the curse clasped its familiar thorny fingers around his body. A moment later he had crumbled to his knees and soon after to the snowy ground, bending in pain, his breaths coming out short and ragged for it hurt to even draw in air. The cool blanket felt more like a field of thorns, and he growled when firm fingers reached for his chin and forced him to look into laughing blue eyes through unshed tears.

"And where is your eloquence now, Black?" Lucius purred, running his thumb along Sirius's jaw line, etching deeper pain to his throbbing skin.

"Fuck you, Malfoy!"

A dangerous flash crossed the blond man's face and Sirius had to bit his tongue in order not to cry when those fingers descended to his neck, digging into his flesh. Amidst the pain he heard low murmuring sound in front of his ear but he couldn't make sense of them – neither had he cared to. Lucius's lips were on his but they had already gone before he could bit them and he hard that quiet, mocking laughter again. Anger seethed in his veins but to his horror, he found out that he could not move even a finger.

Malfoy's unpleasant voice pealed in his ears again, followed by a pang on his lips and shadows shifting in front of his blurred eyes. It took him moments before he realized that the pain was ebbing and he was listening to sounds of footsteps, many of them coming and only one leaving. The latter was sharper, etching their sound to the depth of his mind, leaving a dull, throbbing ache in their wake.

There were many noises he could not distinguish arriving but he recognized one coloured with panic and just the slightest shade of rage.

"Sirius! Are you okay?"

He reached out, finding James's hand clasping his trembling fingers, and smiled weakly at the new warmth.

"Finally there is something I can be grateful about having a father like mine," he croaked out, his voice sounding tight as if he was afraid to speak and he tasted blood in his mouth.

"Don't speak, Siri–"

"He made me used to Cruciatus."

And he fell to the darkness.

* * *

It almost felt only like a nightmare.

When he finally opened his eyes, it was the white ceiling of Hogwarts's infirmary which greeted his hazy eyes and, being there just a little more too often than a student normally should, he immediately knew that he was still alive. Dumbledore looked less cheerful and more somber than usual when he questioned him about the attack, but all Sirius let him know was that he had been attacked with Cruciatus curse. He did not mention Malfoy but he had a distinct impression that the piece of fact had not been lost to the Headmaster.

He had seen none of his friends so far, night had fallen so thick and dark that he supposed it was probably well nearing midnight. Sirius huffed when Madam Pomfrey fixed his pillows for the umpteenth time, but quickly smiled once she shot him a particularly stern look.

"Thanks, Poppy."

"No student is allowed to address me with that name, Mr. Black," she said with an austere face even though her voice pretty much betrayed her attempt to look less motherly than usual. "But assuming that you are recuperating, I can let you off this once. Sleep now or I'll take my words back."

"No gentleman – and woman – should take their words back," he pointed out seriously.

"Sleep."

Sirius couldn't help but to grin and nestle deeper into the blanket to humor her. When you had a mother who would only scoff when you were down with an illness, someone who would nurse you patiently to health seemed too dear. She closed the infirmary door with a soft 'goodnight' and he closed his eyes.

Sleep would not come to him easily. One hour might have passed when Sirius finally gave up on his attempt and let his still sober mind to take over. A curse fell from his mouth for he wanted sleep badly instead of feeling his skin prickle again and again every time the word 'Cruciatus' or 'Malfoy' flitted across his mind. He should have been used to the curse, but perhaps it took more than familiarity to properly deal with it. He knew what kind of person Lucius was and yet he continued to play around, deliberately hitting the other man's nerves only because he knew he could.

Lucius was good because he made Sirius forget about James. He could not have James so he would take Lucius despite his cold, harsh touches.

The sound was sharp in the silence and had it been some other student and not Sirius Black, he would probably have fumbled around for his wand in fear. But Sirius grinned to the darkness and stared at the source of the noise, declaring loudly, "You can definitely use a little stealth, buddy."

James's messy dark hair emerged first, followed by a pair of glassed eyes which seemed dark under the scarce light and a grinning mouth. His friend's entire body followed a moment later and the Invisibility Cloak was tossed aside. James's grin was bright despite the darkness and Sirius felt himself shuddering when the other boy halted just next to his bed, close enough for him to feel his warm presence.

"So, how are you, mate?"

Sirius made a face at him. "You mean apart from suffering post-Cruciatus syndrome? Of course I'm perfectly fine."

James wasn't sure what to say to that. He had never seen the Cruciatus curse actually being put into use, not beyond the pages of textbook, and although he had been naturally curious about it, to see his best friend as a victim to one certainly wasn't what he had expected. James was not sure which was more upsetting: the wry confession Sirius had made about his father's appalling antics or the fact that the culprit had been nowhere to be seen when he had arrived. Sirius hadn't said a word but he could very well guess who it was.

His thought must be painted on his face because Sirius looked at him quietly, something not unlike mortification in his eyes when he suddenly murmured, "It was horrible, wasn't it?"

Again, James didn't know what he felt – or should feel. The flickering heat of anger touched him, raw and scorching amidst other less intense emotions. Sirius should not have come to Malfoy. He knew what kind of man he was. Sirius should know better.

"I don't like you seeing Lucius Malfoy," he said, his voice coming out harsher than he intended.

Sirius laughed, a short bark of wry laughter that sent shivers down James's spine. There was dark fire flickering in his eyes and he shot back, "I don't like you chasing Evans either."

Surprised was too bland a word to describe how James felt at the statement. Sirius was still eyeing him sharply, silently, his lips pursed in aloof stillness which set every alarm inside James's head. It didn't allow him to give in to the glint of hope that had just been rekindled again inside him, many times it had been now and never long enough to set anything in stone.

"You don't like her?" he spoke up again at last.

A tight smile appeared on Sirius face. "I don't have any problem with her, Prongs. It's you liking her which I have problem with."

This was different, James realized after a moment. Sirius looked, more than anything, _tired_, his long bangs covering almost half of his face as if there was something in it to hide from the world. It was the face James had glimpsed years ago when he had been but a boy in his twelve eager to attend his first year in Hogwarts and Sirius an antagonistic traveling companion who glared at the world beyond his mind. James still remembered and he smiled, a firm decision set in him, and said, "I'll stop chasing her if you stop seeing him."

Sirius looked at him hard, the thinnest shade of hope _almost _covered by his attempt to sound annoyed when he replied, "You don't mean it, James."

"I do."

Sirius shook his head and sank deeper into the small bed, as if willing himself to vanish from James's sight. "You'll regret it."

"I won't."

"You will."

A wave of impatience, thickly intermingled by uneasiness swept over James. He sat at the edge of the bed, frowning when he felt his friend stiffening under the thick blanket, and demanded, "You have always believed me, Sirius. Why is it so hard for this once?"

"Because," the answer came in a tight voice.

The frown on his temple deepened and grew into raw anger when the other boy looked away, his lips set stubbornly into a thin line which refused to part. James gritted his teeth. Sirius could try to evade all he wanted, but he was determined to make his best friend understand this. He put a firm hand on Sirius's shoulder, ignoring the fleeting wince that crossed his friend's face, and said, "I'm serious."

Those usually warm, grey eyes glinted in the darkness and Sirius growled harshly, "Prove it."

Taking his chances, James leant down and pressed his lips onto Sirius's, swallowing the other's muffled gasp and following protests. His hands firmly put his friend in place, pinning him down, but Sirius did not cease his resistance. Overcome with fear that he had taken one step too far, James pulled back slightly, but then was surprised when cold fingers clasped the back of his neck and forced him down again, meeting his friend's lips for the second time. It took him a moment to realize that Sirius was kissing him and that he was tasting the slightly bitter tang of potion mingling with faint sweetness of chocolate in Sirius's mouth.

Silent fear was what he saw breeding in his friend's eyes when they separated, still close enough to feel each other's breath. Sirius's fingers slipped from his neck to lie limp at his side and he said quietly, only a note above the faintest whisper, "They say a human's heart is fickle."

Not letting his eyes to stray once from Sirius's solemn gaze, James searched for those cold fingers and entwined them with his, his voice also dropping into a whisper as he replied, "But there is more to it than just fickleness."

Sirius smiled, not the radiant, mirthful smile James often saw on his best friend's face and yet it calmed him. He grinned in return, somewhat awkward now that their uncomfortable position had been registered to his more sensible part of mind, and quickly straightened himself. Sirius's smile widened a little and he said, a little louder than before, "Go back, James. I'll see you again tomorrow when we're in the right state of mind."

"I'm in the right state of mind," he insisted stubbornly, slightly annoyed that his friend still held some doubts of him.

Sirius didn't acknowledge that and merely repeated, "We'll talk about this later."

The melancholy edge in Sirius's voice didn't escape him but James had no choice but to rise from the bed and leave, aware that the other boy had not completely recovered from the bitter effect of the Cruciatus Curse. But he halted at the door, the invisibility Cloak already strewn across half of his body, and he turned back to look sternly his friend.

"Don't meet him again."

Sirius's face lit up with a splash of mischievousness he had known so well and his voice rang merrier than it had been throughout their conversation when he replied, "Come and bring me a ring, Prongs, and then perhaps I'll promise you that."

At that moment, James wasn't sure if his friend was just jesting or not. He stood at the threshold, mouth half-agape, and then he heard himself answering sincerely, "I will."

The surprise look in Sirius's face brought a wave of satisfaction over him and he grinned back before turning to leave, his head full with bright prospects of tomorrow. For the rest of the night, no kind of worry could wrap its fingers around him. Nor was he aware that the day when he would betray every single syllable of those words steadily approached.

The End

* * *

**Notes: **The epitome of weirdness, I guess. And yes, this is a one-shot. I have no intention of going against the great J.K. Rowling and we all know James has to marry Lily for Harry to exist, right? I'll still be very happy if you review though. Thanks for reading! 


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